


Loving is Easy as Summer Days

by shiptoomuch



Series: Prompted [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiptoomuch/pseuds/shiptoomuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack injures his knee during a game, it throws Bitty's plans off a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving is Easy as Summer Days

Bitty zips up the green suitcase and puts his hands on his hips. He’s ready for this, _they’re_ for this. They’ve discussed it enough to know what Jack’s answer will be. And when he takes Jack skating on Saturday night at Faber, it’ll be perfect.

All Jack has to do is win the game tonight and come sleep with Bitty until they have to leave at the asscrack of dawn for Samwell. 

Of course, since fate has decided that Bitty’s life is one cosmic joke, his phone rings. “Hello?”

 _“Hi, Eric. It’s George.”_ Georgia says on the other line in a tone of voice that Bitty does not enjoy one bit. _“Uh, I have some bad news.”_

His heart leaps to his throat, and he has his keys in his hand before he can even get out the thought, “What is it? Oh, I haven’t been watching the game I was busy packing is he okay?”

_“He’s fine, really, it’s just…you might have to change your plan for this weekend.”_

“Change my plans? Georgia Martin, I have been planning this weekend for months.”

He can practically hear her cringe on the other end. _“I know, it’s just. He can’t skate right now.”_

“Excuse me?” Bitty hates the way that his voice climbs about three octaves, but he can hardly help it at this moment. If Jack can’t skate… “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 _“It’s a minor knee injury, just took a check badly,”_ George rushes to say, _“but with playoffs coming up so soon, we want to be on the safe side of things. The team doctor is putting him on a heavy activity ban for the next little while. And they’re giving him a brace and crutches, so be prepared for his whining about them.”_

“Is he giving y’all too much trouble? Do I need to come get him?” Bitty asks as he walks out the door of their Providence apartment. “I’m on my way.”

Georgia laughs quietly through the line. _“You really don’t have to, he’s really fine.”_

“Did they give him drugs for the pain?”

_“Yes.”_

“Then he’s absolutely going to need a designated driver. You know how loopy he gets,” Bitty says calmly as he climbs into his car and starts it up. He pulls out of the garage and shakes his head to himself, “Lord, that boy is intent upon ruining all my plans. What am I going to do? Everyone is coming out for this.”

_“I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Eric. You’ve got two whole days.”_

Bitty laughs slightly hysterically to himself. “Two days to figure out how to propose to my boyfriend. Right. No pressure.”

-

Tango rushes out of the Haus to meet them as soon as their car pulls up to the curb. Bitty has the feeling that he was probably waiting just inside the door for them. “Bitty! Jack Zimmermann! You’re here! Jack, you’re on crutches!”

Jack laughs and nods slowly, “Yep, just for a little bit, we’re trying to be safe about stuff.”

“But if you’re on crutches you can’t skate and Bitty can’t-ow!“ Tango cuts off when Bitty _trips_ and steps on his foot. There are a few moments of eye contact where Bitty is sure he can see the fear of Bittles past struck into the poor boy but can’t really find it in himself to pity him. 

“Yes, it’s a shame that he won’t be able to participate in our little reunion skate tomorrow, but I think he’ll muddle through,” Bitty says smoothly, moving past Tango to the door of the house. He hip checks the door open, both of his arms being occupied by grocery bags full of ingredients for tomorrow night’s team dinner. 

Tomorrow night’s team dinner that was supposed to be celebrating their engagement. For which their parents are flying in. _Gracious,_ Bitty is fucked.

“Where’s the captain?” Bitty asks, looking around for Whiskey once he’s inside. The entire haus seems to be empty, which is something that Bitty hardly experienced whiel he was living there. “I know y’all don’t have practice until later.”

Tango jumps up onto the counter and shrugs. “I think he has a meeting with his advisor. Thesis and all that. I just had one with mine yesterday and honestly, the prospect of graduating is terrifying.”

“Just about two months now, right?” Bitty asks, opening the fridge and frowning at the contents inside. It’s a lot better than when he moved into the haus, but in his two-year absence, it’s clearly not quite as homey as he made it. “I would say I hope we can make it down, but if we can that probably means the Falcs aren’t doing so well, so here’s hoping that we can’t, eh?”

Tango nods but wrinkles his nose. “It’s always so weird when you talk like Jack.”

“Tell me about it.” Jack laughs from where he’s sat down at the kitchen table, his left foot propped up on a free chair. “But it’s not as bad as when I start saying ‘y’all.’ That’s when it starts getting weird.”

Bitty hums and nods. “Yeah, the whole French accent really makes it odd.”

“Not French, _Québécois,”_ Jack clarifies indignantly. 

Bitty rolls his eyes and tosses Jack a can of lemonade, cracking open his own beer. “Because it makes such a difference.”

“It does!”

“You guys are like a married couple.” Bitty is shocked to remember that Tango is in fact still in the kitchen, and that he and Jack aren’t just enjoying a relaxing afternoon at home.

It’s so easy to get lost in the moment when he’s with Jack. Easy enough that Bitty thinks maybe he should propose in a moment like this, not make a big deal out of it, but then he remembers that this is _Jack Zimmermann,_ the love of his life who means more to him than his Moomaw’s peach pie recipe. It has to be special. 

-

“So how are you going to do it? You could still do it before team skate tonight if you want to. Or we could help you do it during. He doesn’t have to be skating,” Chowder says, bititng his lip and looking out the window to where Jack is attempting to participate in a game of Frisbee with Ransom, Holster, and Shitty. It’s almost comical, watching him attempt to run with crutches and a massive brace. 

Bitty frowns and continues chopping the butter into small cubes. “I just don’t know. It was so perfect, I was going to propose at center ice and it was going to be amazing. But now…I can’t imagine proposing at Faber when he can’t skate. It has to be perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll think it’s perfect no matter how you do it.” Chowder says. He pats Bitty on the back and looks around the kitchen. “Wow, it’s weird being back here. I mean, it’s been less than a year but still…this kitchen seems kinda holy now that I’m back.”

“Holy?”

“Yeah, all the big moments happened in here. It always seemed like if there was something happening in the haus that really _mattered,_ it was happening in here.”

Bitty smiles softly and adds the butter to his dry ingredients, cutting it in deftly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I miss this place somethin’ awful, but then I remember how many mornings I spent cleaning sticky somethings off of the floor and I don’t quite feel that way.”

Chowder laughs and nods, slapping Bitty on the back. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“And don’t tell me you miss this place when you’re out there being the goalie for the Kings.” Bitty says with a grin, nudging Chowder in the side. “Word on the street is that a Vezina is in your future.”

Chowder blushes and ducks his head. “Yeah, right. No rookie has won the Vezina in ages. I doubt it’ll be me.”

“Jack thinks you can do it,” Bitty says with a shrug, “and he did win the Art Ross last year.”

“He’ll probably do it again this year if Panarin doesn’t sneak up while he’s off the ice.”

Bitty shrugs and adds cold water to his dough. “We’re not too worried about it. He’s playing for the game, not the awards anymore. Not that the awards are pointless! We’re so proud of what you’re doing out there,” Bitty rushes to add.

Chowder slaps Bitty on the back. “No worries. Hey, I’m gunna head out now to pick up your parents from the airport. Want me to tell Jack to stop messing around on his injury?”

Bitty sighs and puts a hand on his hip. “Yeah, you’d better. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Man’s almost thirty years old out there playing Frisbee. Tell him to come help me in here.”

“Aye Aye, Captain.” Chowder offers a mock salute before jogging out to the front yard. Bitty watches as he talks to Jack, gesturing inside and laughing as Jack pouts before hobbling inside. 

Bitty tries to fight his laughter at Jack’s positively grumpy expression upon entering the kitchen. “I was having fun out there.”

“You’re going to hurt your knee even more. And then you won’t be able to play for playoffs and what kind of captain would you be?”

Jack hums in reluctant agreement and settles his crutches against the wall, hobbling over to Bitty and wrapping his arms around him. “What do you need help with?”

Bitty tilts his head to peck the bottom of Jack’s chin-the only thing he can currently reach in this position-and nods toward the pot by the sink. “Peel those potatoes. And be careful not to slice your finger open again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack huffs to himself and goes to work obediently. “You know, I still can’t believe that you convinced my parents to come down for our little reunion this weekend.”

Bitty laughs, high pitched and slightly panicked, and shakes his head. He’s grateful that Jack is at the sink and they’re not facing each other for this, because he’s certain his face is bright red. “Please, Bob was so excited to see everyone, I didn’t even have to properly invite him before his bags were packed.”

“I believe it.”

“Can you pass me the-“ Bitty cuts off as he turns around and sees Jack, illuminated by the afternoon sun streaming in through the window and looking every bit as handsome as he did when they were in college. He raises an eyebrow at Bitty, who suddenly remembers that he was in the middle of a sentence. “Can you pass me the cinnamon? It should be in one of those bags by your arm.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Jack tosses him the container and Bitty catches it gracefully. It’s a practiced move that happens quite often in their home-both in Providence and their summer house in Montreal. It’s all so normal, and Bitty is filled with a sudden rush of emotion because _this is where it started_ and he knows now why Chowder thinks of the kitchen as somewhere holy.

This is it. This is the kitchen where he perfected his maple-crusted apple pie, where he and Jack would drink coffee before going to Faber for checking practice, where he cooked with his boyfriend for the first time.

Where he realized that he was in love for the first time, and realized that he wanted to see Jack covered in flour in his kitchen as long as the universe would allow Bitty to have that. Some days it still feels like he’s just waiting to be woken up because surely this can’t be his life. He doesn’t get to have something this perfect.

And suddenly Bitty feels very very stupid. It doesn’t have to be anything big, it doesn’t have to be a huge organized event, it just has to be _this._

“Wait right here!” Bitty suddenly exclaims, dropping the cinnamon onto the counter and dashing for the door. He pauses right by the doorframe of the kitchen. “Don’t move!”

Jack stares at him in clear confusion but nods all the same. “Uh, okay?”

Bitty runs out to the car, glad that he drove today because that mean he has the keys, and grabs his backpack from the backseat. When he finally finds the black box, he whoops, grabbing the attention of the boys in the yard. 

“Yo, what’s happening Bits?” Shitty asks. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Bitty practically screams. “Just…don’t come inside for a bit okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Holster shoots Bitty a look like he thinks he’s absolutely insane. 

Bitty runs into the kitchen and skids to a stop in front of Jack, who is still standing exactly where he was before. “Is everything okay, Bits?”

Bitty grins and puts his free hand on Jack’s arm. “Everything’s great. In fact, everything is perfect. Which is why I’m doing this.” He sinks down to one knee and Jack actually audibly gasps. 

Jack Zimmermann doesn’t gasp. Bitty grins with pride.

“Jack, I fell in love with you here. And I was so nervous about where I was going to do this, that I almost forgot that. But being here with you…it just reminds me how I felt back then, and how I still feel now.”

“Bitty,” Jack starts but is cut off by Bitty shushing him.

“Just let me finish this, okay?” Bitty wipes away the stray tear that’s been threatening to escape his cheek. “I want to grow old with you, Jack. I want you to chirp me and make a mess of my kitchen until we’re both too old and senile to do anything but hold each other’s hands. I want to marry you Jack Zimmermann, if you’ll have me.”

He opens the box to reveal a slim platinum band and Jack actually giggles before grabbing Bitty’s arm and pulling him to his feet for a kiss. 

“Is that a yes?” Bitty chirps with a raised eyebrow once he pulls away.

“Yes,” Jack murmurs against his lips. “But I thought you were going to do this tonight at Faber. That’s what Georgia said.”

Bitty groans and leans his head against Jack’s chest. “I’m going to kill her.”


End file.
